


Sacrifice

by imagineteamfreewill



Series: The Switch [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22154575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineteamfreewill/pseuds/imagineteamfreewill
Summary: A mysterious accident provokes the reader to do something reckless, putting both her and—unbeknownst to her—Sam in danger.
Relationships: Sam Winchester & You, Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You, reader x sam - Relationship
Series: The Switch [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1339267
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my tumblr of the same name on December 29th, 2018.

“Dean?” Stepping into the library, you finished buttoning up the flannel shirt he’d let you borrow, then dropped your hands to your sides. “Dean, are you in here?”

There was no answer and you sighed. Both Sam and Dean had gone AWOL since your conversation with Sam two days ago, and you hadn’t seen Cas since long before then.

You were just about to pick up the book you’d been reading before the incident with Sam when you heard the tell-tale flutter of angel wings. Looking up, you smiled when you saw Cas standing in the doorway between the war room and the library, but your smile quickly fell when you saw the bloodied angel blade in his hand and the long, thin gash along the side of his forehead.

“Cas?” you asked, hurrying over to him and grabbing his arm to support him just before he could collapse onto the floor. Though he was heavy, you managed to maneuver him into one of the creaky library chairs nearby. His hand let go of the blade and it fell beside your foot, clattering loudly and leaving a small nick in the dark wood.

“Sam! Dean! Help!”

Cas groaned and closed his eyes as you loosened the tie around his neck, noticing the way he was struggling to breathe.

“Stay with me, Cas,” you urged, supporting his head so it wouldn’t loll to the side. “Hey! Open your eyes!” You patted his cheek and he blinked his eyes open, the pupils dilated as he tried to focus on your face.

You looked up as Sam came into the room, his eyes full of worry and his older brother on his tail. “What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know! He just showed up like this. Something’s not right–—he’s having problems breathing but the only injury I can see is the cut on his forehead.”

“Go get the first aid kit,” Dean ordered, and you quickly nodded in response. Sam took your place at Cas’ feet as you rushed out of the room and down the hall, sprinting to the nearby closet where the Winchesters kept emergency supplies. After grabbing the kit, you hesitated for a moment before gathering up a towel and a bottle of water, just in case.

Sam and Dean were silent when you got back to the library. Cas was silent too, and when you realized that his head was hanging forward and his chin resting on his chest, you stopped in the doorway. The kit, along with the towel and the water bottle, fell to the floor. The bottle rolled away, stopping when it hit the leg of the chair that held Cas’ empty vessel.

“No,” you murmured. “No, he can’t be–” Shaking your head, you rushed forward, lifting Cas’ head with gentle hands. “Cas, come on, open your eyes. Open your eyes.”

“He’s gone, Y/N,” Sam murmured, reaching forward and pulling you away from your angel. Your hands were shaking as he picked up the towel, wrapping it around your shoulders with downcast eyes.

“No, he can’t be gone.” Your voice broke as tears grew in your eyes. Neither Sam nor Dean would meet your gaze and suddenly you felt more alone than you ever had—even more than when you were in your tiny cell in the monster’s compound.

“Take her to her room,” Sam said, his voice quiet, and Dean nodded. You let the younger of the two hand you off, and then you followed Dean silently, still trying to wrap your mind around Cas’ death as he led you down the hall to your room.

Too tired to keep going, you stopped and let your legs give out beneath you. You crumpled to the floor, not bothering to try and help Dean as he tried to keep you upright.

“He can’t be dead,” you whimpered. “I need him!”

Dean didn’t say anything as he moved to sit beside you on the hallway floor. He was within arm’s reach but you didn’t reach out to him as you cried, closing in on yourself more and more as your loss settled in. The towel was strewn out over you, half of it on the floor and half of it covering your right shoulder. Your entire being felt so numb but so overwhelmed all at once that you didn’t even notice when you started crying. Eventually you began to gag on your own tears, still letting out harsh sobs as you vomited up the entire contents of your stomach. Dean pulled the towel from you then, using it to mop up the mess on the floor before getting up and carrying it somewhere. He came back soon after that, resuming his position against the wall.

When your tears finally dried, you stayed on the floor, keeping your tired, puffy eyes focused on the pattern of the tiles. Dean still didn’t say anything to you, but when Sam came down the hall to investigate, you heard him mention what had happened. Strong arms picked you up and you let your eyes fall closed, a stray tear sliding down your cheek before rolling over your jawline and down your neck. You didn’t bother to look and see who was carrying you until they put you down on your bed and Sam’s hair blocked out the light from the lamp on your nightstand—you must’ve left it on when you’d gone to get your book.

“Stay,” you whispered when he moved to leave.

Sam looked back at you and you noticed his own eyes were red. “We have to move him,” he told you.

Sniffling, you shook your head. “Leave him. I’ll get him back, I’m just so tired…”

“We have to do it now, Y/N.” His voice was soft and you closed your eyes for a long second, ignoring the tears that came when you did.

You sucked in a shaky breath and opened your eyes again, using one hand to wipe at them. “Come back afterwards. Please. I don’t want to be alone, Sam. I don’t—”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, not having to hear the end of your next sentence to know that what you needed more than anything was to feel as if you hadn’t been left behind. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

You nodded slightly, watching him disappear into the hallway. The room was silent as you laid there, waiting for him to return, and soon your thoughts began to wander.

_I should’ve just gotten the first aid kit and run back,_ you thought as another sob began to build up in your chest._ If I’d only been quicker, maybe he wouldn’t have died._

“Hey, hey, breathe,” came Sam’s voice in your ear, and you found yourself gasping for air, your mind trying to catch up with the rest of your body.

_When did I start crying?_

“It’s all my fault,” you sobbed. “I should’ve been faster.”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. It’s not anyone’s fault. We don’t know what happened.”

You shook your head, your fists falling against Sam’s chest as he rolled you over to face him. “I could’ve saved him. I should’ve tried harder.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s okay. Nobody’s angry with you.”

“I’m angry with me!” you cried.

Sam sighed and you felt him tuck you against him. He didn’t say anything else as you cried yourself to sleep, your body curled up with his.

* * *

It felt like only minutes had passed when you opened your eyes again, but this time you found yourself in a different bedroom than the one you’d gone to sleep in. You bolted upright, your hand immediately going beside you to shake Sam awake.

“Sam!” you hissed. “Sam, wake up!”

He grumbled sleepily and opened his eyes, focusing on you and then frowning. “What are you wearing?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing, we—” You stopped when you looked down at yourself, confused when you realized that you weren’t wearing the clothes you’d gone to sleep in, either. In place of your normal day clothes, you were wearing a matching pajama set—velvet boxers with a matching camisole, the top trimmed with lace. It was something you’d never dream of wearing. It wasn’t practical and, more than anything, it was embarrassing to be seen in it in front of the boys.

Your cheeks felt hot as you pulled the thick comforter up to cover your chest. “Sam, something’s going on. We’re not in the bunker. These pajamas aren’t mine!” you hissed.

Sam frowned again, the space between his eyebrows denting with confusion and concern as he sat up in the bed, the comforter falling back to reveal that he, unlikes you, was in his normal pajamas.

“I recognize this room,” he murmured after a second. “I remember seeing it on a hunt…”

“Where are we? Why are we here?” you asked, climbing out of bed after him when he went to inspect a sitting area on his end of the room. It was separated from the rest of the bedroom by a doorway framed by two tall, white columns.

“Vermont, I think,” Sam answered. His voice was soft as he ran his hands over the pictures on the walls. “It was a long time ago, though. Before you came along.” He glanced over at you, his eyes lingering on your bare legs before going back to inspecting the room.

“Shouldn’t we try and get out of here, then? You know, before the owners come along and find us in their room?”

Sam shook his head, smiling a little as he ran his fingers over one of the framed photos. From where you stood, it looked as if it was a wedding photo, but you couldn’t bear to get any closer to look at it.

“It’s our house, I think. We’re dreaming again,” Sam said.

You blinked, sucking in a breath and looking around the room again. Sure enough, now that you weren’t panicking and you knew what to look for, you noticed pictures of your own family and memorabilia from your own life scattered around the room. Silently, you moved back around to your original side of the bed and picked up a blanket you’d knocked onto the floor. Almost immediately you recognized it as the one from your mother’s old bed and tears filled your eyes. In that moment, you missed her more than you’d ever missed anyone, even Cas. You hadn’t thought you’d ever see that blanket again.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You looked up at the sound of Sam’s voice and blinked away the tears, wiping your cheeks to get the few stray ones that slipped out before you could. “Yeah,” you told him, your voice froggy. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You’re crying.”

“This is my mom’s blanket. _Was_ my mom’s blanket,” you corrected. “She died after the Switch.”

The thought of death made your mind flash back to why you and Sam were in the same bed in the first place, and you turned and sank down on the soft mattress when you remembered what had happened.

“Cas is dead,” you murmured, tears filling your eyes again. You pressed the blanket to your face, inhaling deeply to try and stop yourself from crying. It didn’t work. The blanket even smelled like your mom’s favorite fabric softener and more tears welled up.

“We’ll bring him back,” Sam replied. The bed dipped beside you as he climbed in on his side, moving across the mattress to sit beside you, his leg resting against yours. “It’ll be okay, Y/N.”

You lifted your head and gave Sam a tight, teary-eyed smile and sniffled, bringing a hand up to swipe at the tears that were streaming down your cheeks again.

“Thanks,” you said after a few moments of silence had passed. Sam looked over at you and you added, “For calming me down earlier. I’m not good with people dying.”

“Nobody is.”

You nodded at that and looked down at your hands, your mind wandering from Cas back to the house. Sam didn’t say anything more. When the silence between the two of you had become uncomfortable, you stood and opened one of the doors along the wall, revealing a bathroom. The next door opened to a large closet, and the third finally opened to a hallway. You stepped out into it, only to be knocked into the doorframe by a large golden retriever bounding into the room. Behind you, Sam laughed, and you turned to find him trying to pet the dog, who was now turning in circles on the bed.

“I take it that your dream house not only has this bedroom from Vermont, but it has their dog, too?” you asked, a hint of teasing in your voice as you watched Sam from the doorway, a true smile on your face for the first time since you’d woken up in the bed with him.

“Something like that,” he laughed in response, looking up at you. He met your eyes and you felt warmth blossom inside your chest, your cheeks heating up again as he held your gaze. For a moment he looked like he wanted to say something and you waited in anticipation, only to have the moment broken by the dog, who was now vying for Sam’s attention by licking his cheek.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” you chuckled when Sam’s eyes moved away from yours, and you gratefully ducked down the hall to explore the rest of the house and think about what had happened, this time without any interruptions.

“Y/N, wait!”

You turned, now only a few feet down the hall, to find Sam standing in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame and the dog pressed up against his leg in a desperate attempt to win his affection.

“What?” you asked when Sam didn’t speak for a moment.

“I, uh, I wanted to know why you didn’t say anything about the last dream we shared. I mean, you said some pretty big stuff…” Sam trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck and giving your a sheepish smile.

Frowning, you answered, “Because you never said anything. You acted exactly the same, as if it never even happened.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to frown. He looked down at the dog, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion once more. “I thought for sure I said something…” You shook your head in response. “Well it—” Sam started, stopping almost as soon as he began.

“It what?”

“It was nice. To be with you like that.”

“I… Yeah, I guess it was nice,” you replied, a little put out. Sam thought your almost-kiss had been _nice?_ He thought that the two of you admitting that you loved each other was _nice?_

“That’s not what I meant,” Sam groaned when he realized what your expression meant. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and then dropping it back down to his side, where the dog began to lick his fingers. “I meant that I liked it. I liked it a lot and I wish that we’d been able to kiss. I’m just wondering what you meant by us being soulmates. I know you said you wanted to talk about all of this,” he gestured to the house around you, “when we were both awake, but… I think we should talk about it now, here.”

You eyed Sam warily, watching as he stepped closer to you, a questioning look on his face. “You remember all that?” you asked. Sam nodded and you chewed on your bottom lip for a second, looking everywhere but him. “Well, you didn’t say anything about it.”

“I told you that thought I did.”

“Well… you didn’t.”

“Why are you avoiding my question?” Sam countered, stepping closer to you.

“I’m not, I just… “ You swallowed thickly, fiddling with the hem of your borrowed—_imaginary?_—pajamas for a second before stopping yourself. “I can’t do something like this with you so soon, Sam. Not after… not after Cas. He was my best friend and I…”

He looked away, shoulders slumping slightly. You both knew that Sam had lost enough people to know how you were feeling, and Cas was important to him, too.

“I don’t believe in soulmates, anyway,” you added after a minute, avoiding Sam’s gaze. “If we’re destined to be with certain people, then what’s the point of even dating and letting us try and guess our way until we find “The One”? Shouldn’t they just put us with that person right away, or at least tell us who it is?”

Sam didn’t answer and you blinked a few times, noticing that the hallway was beginning to grow blurry.

_I’m waking up,_ you thought as the space behind Sam grew dark._ I should tell him that. I should tell him that I really do want to talk about it when we’re awake, too. And that I do love him, even though I don’t think that soulmates exist…_

* * *

The next few days passed by slowly. You slept fitfully most of the time, not wanting to get out of bed and face the brothers. They were probably blaming you for Castiel’s death, considering that Sam hadn’t even been in your bed when you’d woken up the first morning and he hadn’t been back since, not even to check on you. On top of all that, the two of you had shared another strange dream that night. You couldn’t remember any of the details, except that you’d woken up more distressed about your relationship with him than before, so you pushed any thought of it away and tried to focus on other things besides the dream, the brothers, and Cas. That didn’t leave much for you to think about.

Dean had knocked on the door once to try and get you to eat something, but after you’d laid in silence, refusing to answer, he’d gone away. The heavy sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall had made you tear up again, and you’d cried yourself back to sleep soon after.

Finally, you couldn’t take the weight of your guilt any longer. The clock on your phone read that it was two in the morning, and after a quick check down the hallway to make sure that there was no one around, you slipped out the door and to the library. It was dark and empty. After only a few minutes of searching, you found the spell book you’d been looking for, then settled down in one of the chairs, turning on the lamp as you opened up to the first page. The room was filled with a soft glow and you read in silence until you finally found a spell that would achieve what you wanted.

“Perfect,” you murmured to yourself as you ran a finger down the page, looking through the list of ingredients. Sam had all of these, you were sure.

Collecting the things you would need was easy. Sam had all the bunker’s spell ingredients meticulously organized and you made sure to go over the list twice, then three times, to make sure that you’d only have to do the spell once. You weren’t sure how much it would hurt, but you imagined that sacrificing part of your soul wouldn’t be painless.

Cas’ body was lying on the center of the bed in a bedroom a few doors down from Dean’s. You stared down at him and swallowed hard, shaking your head and blinking away the hot tears that started to well up in your eyes. You’d wanted to apologize to him before you started the incantation, but you couldn’t get the words past the lump in your throat.

_I’ll just tell him afterwards,_ you thought as you shifted the things in your arms so that you’d have a few hand to wipe the tears from your eyes.

Silently, you set the metal bowl and your ingredients down on the side of the bed and on the nightstand. When everything was ready you started the spell, adding each ingredient in its time and beginning to read the incantation aloud, speaking quietly lest you wake up Sam or Dean.

All at once it felt as if a red-hot wire was wrapped around your insides, and some invisible force was tugging hard on that wire. You let out a cry, stopping the incantation for a brief moment before quickly beginning again. The sooner you got this done, the sooner the pain would go away.

Cas’s body jerked on the bed and you jumped back in surprise, causing the pain to worsen. You crumpled to the floor with one arm wrapped around your stomach. You’d known that the spell might hurt, but you didn’t think that it would hurt _this_ bad. Tears stung in your eyes as you reached up for the spell book that still lay open in its place on the nightstand. It fell to the floor and you hurriedly tried to find your page again before the half-finished spell would start to fizzle away. Before you could, however, a hand closed around your arm and jerked you off the floor of the bedroom. You got your feet beneath you as the pain in your abdomen began to disappear and more tears brimmed in your eyes.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Lifting your head, you met Dean’s eyes, then burst into tears. “I just want him back,” you sobbed, your voice wobbling and punctuated by wheezing, gasping breaths. “Let me go!” You tugged on your arm, trying to get free from Dean’s grip, though you knew that your struggling would do no good.

“Not until you’ve got some more sense in you,” Dean replied. He pulled you into his arms, his voice more soothing now than angry. “It’s okay, Y/N. It’s alright.”

“What’s going on?”

Sam’s voice came from the doorway and you sobbed harder, your arms tightening around Dean’s waist as you buried your face in his shoulder. You felt his hand on your back, rubbing up and down as he replied, “She was doing some kind of spell, I think. She was trying to get Cas back.”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“I know, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

“A spell?” Sam asked, and you hear him shuffle past you, then the pages of your book ruffle behind you as he picked it up from the floor. Neither brother said anything for a moment until Sam said, “Dean, she was sacrificing part of her soul.”

Dean pulled away from you so he could meet your watery, red-rimmed eyes. You were still trying to get in a steady breath as he asked, “Is that true?” You nodded and he sighed, pulling you close again as you gasped for air, the breath stuttering past your cries. “It’s okay, kid. It’s okay. We’ll get him back one way or another, but not that way.”

“It’s all my fault!”

“No, it’s not,” he soothed. “It’s not your fault, Y/N.”

“I’ll go make her some tea. You good to stay here with her, Dean?”

“Let’s take her to the kitchen. We can clean up in here later.” With that, Dean scooped you up in his arms, letting you hiccup against him as he carried you to the kitchen. Sam led the way, but you could barely focus on anything except that you’d failed to help Cas for the second time that week.

You’d run out of tears by the time Dean set you down in one of the uncomfortable kitchen chairs. You slumped in it, resting your forehead on top of your folded arms. Sam and Dean murmured to each other as you Sam made your tea, but you didn’t bother to try and listen in. Exhaustion and numbness had settled in quickly and you closed your eyes, listening to the quiet sound of their voices, then the high whine of the tea kettle before Sam took it off the old stove.

“Here,” he murmured, followed by the quiet clunk of the ceramic mug being set on the table in front of you. You lifted your head to look at it, then sat up the rest of the way and reached out to take it in both hands.

“Thank you.”

Sam gave you a gentle, tired smile before sitting down in the chair kiddy-corner from yours. Dean took the seat beside him and watched you as you took a sip, your eyes downcast.

“You okay, kid?” Dean asked, and you nodded silently in response. “Why would you do something like that? You knew it was reckless.”

You shrugged, tears stinging your eyes as you stared down into your tea. Sniffling, you reached up a hand and swiped at them, wiping your cheeks clean of any more stray tears.

“We’re just glad you’re okay,” Sam said. The room was quiet for a second before he started again, “Y/N, do you know what the Latin for the spell exactly translated to?”

You shook your head.

Sam sighed. “Okay. I was just asking because I was in pain when you did it, just like you were…”

Standing, you met the brothers’ eyes for the first time since they’d brought you to the kitchen. “I’m gonna head to bed.”

They nodded and gave you tight smiles as you set your mug down on the table, moving past them out the doorway into the hallway. As you headed towards your room, you heard the beginning of a conversation between them, and it your heart ached when you heard Sam ask Dean if he had any ideas about why both him and yourself had been in pain when you’d tried to do the spell. Dean said he didn’t know, and you quickened your steps so you wouldn’t hear them say anything more. You couldn’t bare to lose your friendship with Sam, not like this. If you did, you’d truly be left with nothing.


End file.
